


take your time on me

by only_because3



Series: take your time on me [1]
Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Angst, Cheating, Choking, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-26
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-05-14 05:12:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14763263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/only_because3/pseuds/only_because3
Summary: She’s sure he’s lonely too and she’s a warm body who knows him well, knows how to make him tick and how to make him liquid. His body grew under the impressions of her hands and no one, not a single girlfriend he’s had or could have, will ever slot as perfectly against him as she will. She knows he’s ruined her the same way; the slopes and curves of her body have been forged by his touch.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Well, well, well. Didn't think I'd end up here, writing RPF, but these two have been fucking me up left, right, and center and I'm trash, so, this is where we are. All events are purely fictional. This is going to be three parts and it's going to be on a journey. This first chapter is nothing short of messy. Uh... enjoy?
> 
> Lyrics are from Drew Barrymore by SZA and Unsung Psalm by Tracy Chapman

_{it's hard enough you got to treat me like this_

_Lonely enough to let you treat me like this_

_Do you really love me_

_Or just wanna love me down,_

_Is it warm enough for ya inside me, me, me}_

Tessa knows she’s not a good person.

She isn’t one half of the Canadian sweethearts that the media seem to pitch her and Scott as. She is not pure or kind or anything like that. If she were, she wouldn’t be sinking down on to Scott’s cock, legs pressed on either side of his hips, his hands at her waist like he’s trying to ease her down. She knows he likes it when she pulls him in fast and hard, eyes boring down into him like she would eat him whole if she could.

Across the world, there’s someone who is Scott’s girlfriend and Tessa wonders about the looks she must get when she tells people she’s dating Scott Moir. Do they look at her like she’s an idiot? Do they pity her? They should, Tessa thinks. Everyone knows Tessa comes before anyone else when it comes to Scott, girlfriend be damned.

(She tries not to think that _she_ should be the one being pitied. Working with Scott, fucking Scott, and yet that’s all she’s allowed to get from him it seems. No, no romantic commitment for her. That’s okay. She doesn’t want that anyway.)

One of Scott’s hands leaves her waist, skirts up to pull at her nipple briefly before curling at her throat. She can feel herself drip around him and his hand isn’t even applying pressure yet.

Would a good person like getting choked during sex? Tessa doesn’t think so.

She’s never let anyone else try this with her, never allowed herself to voice the want until Scott fell into her. She puts her safety in his hands all the time, why wouldn’t she allow him to do it when he’s fucking into her and setting her body on fire?

Somewhere, she has a boyfriend too. They don’t have a lot in common but then again, strip away all the skating and it’s not like she and Scott are a lot alike either. She was supposed to call him tonight but this, Scott’s hand squeezing at her neck as he thrusts up into her, this is a _much_ better use of her time.

Her nails dig into the corded muscle of his arm and she hopes the marks will be there when they go home and he sees his girlfriend. She tries not to wonder if Scott has the same thought later, when he has her on all fours and he’s smacking her ass like he has something to prove.

She tried to tell herself before that the reason she keeps doing this is because she’s lonely. It’s competition season which means free time is planned and sometimes free time is when they’re gone to competitions. Friends and family are on the other side of the world and then there’s Scott, right there with her. When the silence she’s willingly sought out gets too deafening, who else would she turn to if not Scott?

She’s sure he’s lonely too and she’s a warm body who knows him well, knows how to make him tick and how to make him liquid. His body grew under the impressions of her hands and no one, not a single girlfriend he’s had or could have, will ever slot as perfectly against him as she will. She knows he’s ruined her the same way; the slopes and curves of her body have been forged by his touch.

Once, she asked if anyone had ever sucked him off as good as her. She had the taste of him in her mouth, her hand slick with spit and precum as it worked over him. She wants to be the best he’s had because she’s selfish and the thought of anyone else possibly dethroning her as the top person in Scott’s life makes her want to throw up.

After, when her legs are sticky with drying cum and there’s a full condom in the trash in her bathroom, he stays even though she hasn’t asked him to and Tessa has to suppress a smirk. He could have gone back to talk to his girlfriend, it is afterall an appropriate hour back home, but he doesn’t leave Tessa’s bed. He turns on the tv and she reads a book next to him and they don’t bother with clothes because, why would they? It feels so painfully domestic and right and it’s then that the world starts to sit on her chest.

She asks him to leave shortly after and she sleeps restlessly that night.

* * *

 

_{Yes I have strayed and succumbed to my vices_

_I tried to live right_

_But I have no regrets no guilt in my heart}_

He’s a shitty boyfriend.

He’s always busy, always leaving for competition, always abstaining from fun date nights because he’s training and he needs to put his career first.

He’s also fucking Tessa. Scott thinks he should probably have listed that first but it’s _Tessa_ and he’s always made it clear to each and every girlfriend that Tessa isn’t going anywhere.

(He knows that’s a shit excuse because Tessa of course would be around, but that doesn’t mean he has to put his dick in her.)

The first time he realizes he’s a shitty boyfriend is not when he’s got Tessa up against the wall of his hotel room, three fingers buried in her cunt while her hands tug painfully at his hair. It’s not when he’s got her spread open on the bed, his face drenched in her cum. It’s not when she’s riding him and his hand is wrapped around her throat.

No, he realizes he’s a shitty boyfriend when his girlfriend is on her knees in front of him and he thinks about Tessa. He thinks about how she sucked him off after he came inside her, eager to go again. He thinks about how she can take him deeper than his girlfriend, how she uses just the right amount of teeth, how she isn’t hesitant to play with his balls, how she scratches her nails down his thighs.

It’s not fair to his girlfriend. She doesn’t have the years Tessa does with him. Tessa, who gave him his first blowjob when he was supposed to be teaching her how to drive. Tessa, who knows how to read him better than anyone else, can pick up on each little tick and breath.

It’s not fair to his girlfriend because she’s his girlfriend and she doesn’t deserve to be compared to someone else, doesn’t deserve a boyfriend who is thinking about someone else when they fuck.

He does his best to be present in each moment, to get her off as many times as she’ll allow him to. She calls him sweet and the best and tells him about her friends’ boyfriends hate eating them out and how did she get so lucky?

He’s a fucking asshole.

Tessa’s boyfriend is in the same city as their next competition. He takes her out to breakfast the morning of their short program but doesn’t bother to go to the actual skate. Tessa doesn’t seem bothered by it which means Scott shouldn’t be either.

He fucks her in the shower after they get back from the arena and he hears her afterwards, when he’s still washing the conditioner out of his hair, telling the boyfriend that she can’t make it to dinner that night, that she’s too tired and too nervous about tomorrow.

He texts his girlfriend that he won’t be able to make their nightly phone call either and he spends hours with Tessa. She sits on his face and he fucks her into the mattress. He chokes her as she rides him and she masturbates next to him until he’s hard again and she has to bury her face in a pillow as he fucks her ass and he’s never, ever seen her this soaked.

When they’re done, guilt starts to creep into his chest. But then Tessa smiles at him, warm and sated, and suddenly it doesn’t really matter anymore. He turns on the tv and she reads a book and he absentmindedly starts massaging her calves. He could spend the rest of the night like this.

But Tessa doesn’t want him there and he shouldn’t want to stay. He puts back on his clothes and makes it down the hall to his room, feeling like the worst person on the planet.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! I am overwhelmed by your wonderful feedback on the first chapter (and the impromptu porn that spawned from it) and, as such, am super worried about how this next chapter is going to go over. Spoiler: It is much less smutty than the first so if you're here for filth, I apologize. This is a journey for this duo and it can't be all fucking all the time. Also, I'm fairly certain this timeline isn't "canon" but that makes me feel a little better about writing RPF so yeah!
> 
> Enjoy?
> 
> Lyrics in this chapter are Sometimes When We Touch by Tina Turner (this is the version I listened to anyway) and Night Time by The xx

_ {At times I think we're drifters _

_ Still searching for a friend _

_ A brother or a sister _

_ But then the passion flares again} _

She thinks there’s something wrong with her.

She has a boyfriend who she likes and Scott has a girlfriend she adores. Out of every girl that Scott’s gone through, this one is by far the best. Things with Scott… they’re good now. They’re not tearing each other apart and they’re friends and, sure, friends has always meant something a little different for them but it isn’t like before.

Now when they’re in the same hotel room, they’re looking over their schedules, they’re eating dinner, they’re skyping with some member of their families. They watch movies to unwind and they talk and they joke and it’s everything a friendship should be, she thinks.

But they still do things that Tessa thinks any normal person would call inappropriate. She still wears a barely oversized shirt and underwear even when Scott’s in her room. She still lets him in the bathroom when she’s in the shower. He invites her in to his room as he’s getting dressed or getting in the shower himself. He rests his hand on her thigh as they’re watching tv. 

Nothing they do is spurred by bad intentions and it doesn’t lead anywhere. She doesn’t think they want it to lead anywhere (and she buries the knowledge that if he tried to take it further, she’d follow him in an instant). It’s just how they are and Tessa is loathe to change habits they’ve had for well over a decade. She knows it’s wrong though because she never tells anyone about these things that she and Scott just seem to do like it’s second nature.

And if she says out loud that this might be weird for best friends, then she runs the risks of losing it, of losing the comfortable ease that she and Scott exist in. She likes her boyfriend and she adores Scott’s girlfriend, but she loves Scott. She’s not short changing their relationship for anyone.

They’ve got a night’s rest and Tessa spends it curled up with a book. She’s surprised when there’s a knock on her door around 11, if only because she assumed that the group that went out for drinks was going to stay out later. But there’s Scott, smelling of sweat and beer and faded cologne. “Can I hang out,” he asks and she still wants to be alone but she knows that she can have that with Scott. He’s not like her boyfriend who can’t seem to understand that sometimes she doesn’t want to talk.

She tosses Scott the remote and picks back up her book and they lay there, side by side in her bed, quiet save for the low sounds of the tv and the soft rustle every time she turns a page. It’s one of the best nights she’s had in a long time.

Eventually, she dog ears the page she’s on, turns on her side. Scott’s eyes are closed, breathing slow but she knows he’s not asleep, not just yet. He reminds her of his dad, with his arms crossed over his chest, chin slowly falling down when sleep creeps in a little fast. His head jerks up but his eyes stay closed and it happens two times before she has to stifle a laugh. “Sh,” he murmurs. “I’m trying to sleep.”

She should tell him to go to his own room then, remembers how she had no problem kicking him out of her room before (before, when she couldn’t look at him without hating herself). Tessa doesn’t want to think about then, doesn’t want to shade in this wonderful night with memories of their own faults and, maybe she’s being selfish, maybe she’s still not a good person even though she’s tried. “Turn out your light then,” she says, turning off her own.

He follows her directions, gets up from the bed just long enough to shuck his jeans and get under the covers with her.

 

* * *

 

_ {Hold my words, keep us together _

_ Steady walking but bound to trip _

_ Should release but just tighten my grip} _

He hates himself a little.

He’s happy that Tessa is happy, really, truly. He just wishes that he was the one making her happy again and if that doesn’t make him sound like some prick, complaining about being friendzoned or some ex that can’t let go. That’s  _ not _ who he is. Tessa is her own person and she doesn’t owe him anything.

But he wants, and he wants, and he wants.

And he hates himself anytime he feels jealous but Tessa is smiling and laughing and they’re still seeing each other regularly and that’s enough. He’ll take anything she’s willing to give him.

They go to the movies and he’s not sure they’ve ever actually done this before. They’ve known each other for the majority of their lives but he can’t think of a time they’ve gone to an actual movie theater together and when he tells her that she looks a little surprised. He laughs when she pulls chocolate out of her bag and says, “I’m glad I brought the good stuff then.” They share a small popcorn and a soda and her chocolate and he tries not to think about how they should’ve done this more, tries not to think that they wasted so much time over the years.

He remembers all their training and all the time he thought he needed away from her. He knows she needed space from him, knows he was a jackass for too long. It’s probably for the best they didn’t do this back then.

His parents throw their usual Canada Day barbeque and it’s the first family function since he’s been single. Tessa has a standing invitation to any Moir party and she brings her boyfriend and he’s nice enough which is irritating, but Scott can’t be too upset because Tessa deserves someone like that. She spends the day catching up with his family and their friends and he expects her to leave before the fireworks because, even though she’s known the people here almost her entire life, Scott knows it’s a lot of socialization for her. He can see it in the creases around her eyes, the tightness in her jaw, the curl of her hands inside the pockets.

He’s in the kitchen when she comes in, alone, and Scott’s not proud to admit he’s glad she left the boyfriend to his own devices. Her smile is soft and tired and she drops down into a chair at the table that’s always been in his mom’s kitchen. He gets her a glass of water as she runs her thumb over the deep knicks in the wood top, her eyes soft and wrinkled at the edges, a smile so soft stretching her lips.

Sometimes, he hates that he never got to see her like this when he had her. It was always so intense, so rough, even when it was slow and gentle. He remembers once, touching her with reverence and her crying harder than he’d ever seen before.

Scott swallows thickly and thanks God that she somehow manages to look at him like he didn’t nearly ruin them.

He has every intention to leave, to give her the silence he knows she’s craving but she takes the cup of water in one hand, grabs his belt loops with the other. She takes a sip, pulls him close and his hand threads through her hair when she rests her head against him.

There’s excited laughter from the kids outside and soon enough, loud booms shake the house. Tessa lets out a sigh and gives his thigh a squeeze before pushing herself up. “Thank you,” she murmurs and she holds onto his hand as they head out of the house. He expects her to walk back to where everyone has gathered to watch the fireworks with her boyfriend. Instead, she holds his hand and pulls him down on the back steps of the porch. She doesn’t say anything and neither does he, content to just watch the fireworks burst in the distance.

If he were a better friend, he would bring up her boyfriend, ask where he is, ask if she should be saving him from any number of Moir relatives. 

He’s not a good friend though and instead of opening his mouth, he squeezes her hand tight, lets his head fall to her shoulder.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Neither scene in this chapter went how I thought it was going to but they both just came to these great endings anyway. At least, I think they're great. Hopefully you do too. Enjoy!
> 
> Lyrics in this chapter from Alone With Me by Vance Joy

_ {Oh, and here we are _

_ I'm doing things with you I never thought we'd do _

_ I'm seeing into you _

_ Oh, you're the shape of my days _

_ Oh, you're my holy place} _

 

Tessa knows she’s a little ridiculous.

She spends a lot of money on clothes and accessories and books and vacations. She works hard, has been working hard since she was six years old, and so she figures that indulging in the finer things in life is fine.

That said, she knows that renting out this place simply because she fell in love with the bathroom is ridiculous. Or, as Scott had said, insane.

Tessa sinks into the clawfoot tub with a happy groan just as she hears the door open downstairs and before Scott can call out for her, she yells for him to come up to the bathroom. He doesn’t appear in the doorway at first and she imagines him moving around the kitchen, no doubt putting away the meals for the week that their nutritionist had prepared. She reaches to the nearby window ledge, picking up her favorite face mask and slathering a thin layer on.

Scott pokes his head in just before she recaps the jar and she sits up a little straighter. “Come here,” she says and he looks between her and the jar for a moment. “It’s the one you liked last time.” With a small huff, Scott walks in and drops on to the floor next to the tub, chin perching on the lip of it.

Carefully, Tessa rubs a thin layer over Scott’s forehead, his temples, his cheeks. She adds a thicker layer along his jaw where he’s been breaking out since late last week. “You know, it really is unfair that you didn’t even get acne ever and I’m nearing  _ thirty _ and still have it.” 

“Sorry,” Tessa laughs, wiping her finger down the length of his nose. Jar recapped and safely back on the window, Tessa washes her hand off in the water and Scott scoots back so that his back can rest against the cabinets beneath her sink. They’ve had a good, but challenging training week and she thinks that he should probably have a good long soak himself if the slight wince that crosses his features is anything to go by.

But Scott’s apartment came with a shower stall and she suddenly feels a little less ridiculous for getting this place.

“Do you want to take a soak after me,” she asks.

Scott’s head lolls to the side, giving the tub a long look with low brows. “No, I don’t want to rush you. I wasn’t planning on staying long anyway.”

“I can take a bath whenever, Scott.” The face mask has started to tighten on her skin and she can tell that Scott’s feeling the same effect too from the way he wiggles his nose a little. “You have any plans tonight?” He shakes his head and Tessa wonders briefly if he didn’t plan on staying because he needs some space from her. She dismisses the thought quickly. They’re really good now with letting one another know when they need alone time, when they need their space, and if Scott really needed time away from her, he wouldn’t have let her put on the face mask. “You know if you’re tired, you can always sleep here. You know I have the room.”

He laughs, the mask cracking around his eyes and around his mouth. “Only you would rent a place bigger than your damn house.”

Her playful smirk is hindered by her own face mask and Tessa’s not sure it has the full effect. “Yes, but it has this beautiful tub that we both get to take advantage of.”

He shakes his head, hair falling into some of the still wet mask at this forehead, and he releases a sigh as he rubs his hands together. “I don’t want you to stop your soak on account of me.”

Always such a gentleman, she thinks. “Then just jump in with me,” she says and she brings her legs up to her chest to indicate that there would be enough room for them both. Even with their legs outstretched, it won’t be a tight fit. Comfy, definitely, but they’ve spent nearly their entire lives wrapped up around one another. Surely, this won’t make a difference.

He doesn’t ask if she’s sure but he does regard her carefully, eyes narrowing briefly before softness over takes them. He nods once and she’s not sure it’s appropriate to smile in response but she does, widely, even though it makes the mask pull at her skin uncomfortably.

He stands up with a soft groan and she hopes that the water is still hot enough for him to relax into it. He disrobes efficiently and quietly, careful when he pulls his shirt over his head. Tessa should probably look away, thinks it’s the polite thing to do, before taking stock of the matter at hand. They’re about to take a bath together. Who cares if she watches him undress? Her chest has been out the entire time he’s been in here anyway.

She rolls her shoulders back, tilts her head from side to side to get rid of any cricks that have formed. When something in her neck pops, he looks up at her and she waves off any concern or comment. It doesn’t stop what she thinks is supposed to be a frown from attempting to form on his features and they’re holding eye contact as he pushes his sweats and boxers down to the floor.

It’s nothing she hasn’t seen before but it has been a few years and she doesn’t marvel at the way his body has changed and stayed the same, but she does take stock of him. She touches him so much that it’s not as if his shape is a surprise to her. But there is something different about actually seeing, with no barriers between them, just how his body has altered. He seems broader than he did then, muscles a little more defined, and Tessa finds herself sighing just a little. Time has been kind to him in a way it’s never been with her.

Naked, Scott puts a hand on the lip of the tub and Tessa reaches out for the other one. “Please be careful,” she worries, hoping that the epsom salts haven’t left the bottom of the tub too slick. He manages to get in without slipping and the water rises almost too high but a little overflow is fine with her if it means Scott’s getting to relax too.

His legs stretch out, his feet ending up on either side of her hips and she waits until he’s settled to unfold her own legs. They rest on top of his, her feet barely reaching his torso before he slides further down in the tub, and then they’re brushing against his stomach until he wraps his hands around her calves and moves her so she’s bracketing his waist. “Thanks, Tess,” he sighs, head just barely above the water. 

She’s not sure how long they soak but she manages to get through a chapter of her book and Scott sits up at some point, checking the score of the game with squinted eyes, one hand still under the water and securely on her leg. It’s way past the time for them to wash away their face masks, Tessa can feel how flakey her own is and can see how cracked Scott’s is, but she’s loathe to move.

She feels content and full and happy and this moment they’ve created seems precious. There have been so many times within the past year where she’s felt this way, where she looks at the moments they’ve carved out together and realizes that she and Scott are on a whole different plane. They’ve always worked well together, even in the worst of times, but there’s been a palpable shift between them, leaving them better than she think they’ve ever been before. Maybe they finally just grew up or maybe they just grew tired of fighting how intertwined they’ve always felt. 

Water sloshes over the lips of the tub as Scott stretches to put his phone somewhere it’ll stay dry and he murmurs that he’ll clean up the mess once they’re done before sitting up completely. “You look ridiculous,” he says, waving her closer. She sits up fully too and their legs move as they try to fold them, knees knocking together not uncomfortably. “Close your eyes.” She follows his instruction and then he’s bringing water up to her face, fingers massaging away the mask gently. He starts with her forehead and then her temples, grazes her nose, and she opens her eyes when he gets to her cheeks, pulse picking up speed when she finds him looking at her so intently, with such a reverence that she can’t suppress the shiver that runs through her.

He doesn’t comment on it even though she’s sure he noticed it, just keeps washing her face until all of the mask is gone and her face is left feeling new. “There’s my girl.”

 

—

_ {Oh, you're the shape of my days _

_ Oh, you're my holy place _

_ And I know _

_ Everything's good _

_ Everything's just as it should be _

_ When you're alone with me} _

Scott doesn’t know why he keeps trying.

He rubs a hand over his jaw, stubble barely present despite the fact that it’s been a week since he last shaved. Squinting into the mirror, Scott is happy to see that it looks a little thicker above his lip but, ultimately, he knows this is a sad excuse for facial hair.

The front door opens and then he hears a soft huff from Tessa before the door closes again, gentle, a clear cut sign it’s Tessa who has walked in, even if he hadn’t heard her. “You pick up the ingredients?”

“What I could find anyway,” Tessa calls back. It’s not reassuring. He’d given her a list and he knows that everything should have been easily found in any supermarket. “I went to Atawater for everything so I didn’t get any can stuff.” Hands on the sides of the sink, he lets out a heavy sigh. “I bought extra tomatoes though, so we can just make tomato paste, right?” She pops up in the doorway, soft smile on her face, completely unaware to the fact that it’s damn near impossible for him to make red sauce without tomato paste. 

He supposes this will just be another adventure to add to his list, another journey that Tessa takes him on.

Her eyes dart to the sink and then back up to Scott’s face, smile dimming just a little as she asks, “Are you going to shave?”

Scott looks back in the mirror, inspecting himself once more. “I was thinking about it.” Tessa steps in and steps into his space, considering him the same way he’s regarding himself. “Thoughts?”

Tessa shrugs. “Whatever makes you happy,” she says and Scott can tell that she’s being completely honest. Her fingers come and tangle in his hair and she grips it firmly, a playful tug. “This is really nice though.” She combs through the strands, looking at him through the mirror and her smile is wider than it has been. “I like it.”

Scott swallows thickly, lets himself nod a little when Tessa’s hand falls to his shoulder. “I think this facial hair has to go, eh?”

Her lips quirk to one side and her eyes are already twinkling with mirth before she says, “Oh, we’re actually calling this facial hair?”

“Tess,” he groans and she laughs, loud and bold. He picks up his razor and before he can grab the shaving cream, Tessa’s got it, pumping some onto her hand. She smears it along his jaw, dabs it above his top lip, careful to not get any up his nose. “Thanks.”

“Of course,” she says as she washes her hand. “Want me to do it?”

He thinks back to that time in Canton, when he was sixteen and  _ finally _ had a reason to learn how to shave, and being too stubborn to wait until he went home for the weekend so his dad could show him the ropes. He remembers nearly cutting himself to shreds and then there was Tessa, who just sighed before taking the razor from him and giving him a clean shave, gently explaining what she was doing the whole way.

“Yeah,” Scott says, “okay,” and when she comes to stand in front of him, his hands sit on her hips like a reflex.

She takes the razor from his hand and, with all the grace and delicacy that she has on the ice, drags the razor along his jaw. She is careful and sure and he almost wants to laugh at how serious she looks. He doesn’t, of course, doesn’t want to get cut, but he knows this isn’t something he’ll soon forget.

She tilts his chin, studiously checking her work, and once she’s satisfied, steps out of his space to grab a towel, returning to wipe away any excess. “Much better,” she says and, oh, he’s not sure he’ll ever tire of this smile she wears. It’s different from the others he’s seen pass over her features throughout their lives. There’s knowledge in it, maturity, but also an overwhelming softness, her eyes following her smile’s direction. Maybe it’s the other way around, maybe it’s because she’s looking at him so tenderly that her lips stretch to match the emotion, but either way, Scott is helpless as he looks at Tessa, face bare and open and happy, shining in his direction.

He sighs and it seems like that’s what she was waiting for because she slips her arms around his shoulders to bring them flush together. 

He knows as well as she does that they’re standing on the precipice of their world. With each passing day, their first competition looms closer. With each passing day, they somehow grow closer than ever before, and do so in a manner Scott would actually call healthy (and  _ that _ is not something he’s sure their relationship has ever been since they hit puberty). He thinks it should feel frightening, to be looking down the barrel of his entire life, but instead he feels ready, feels calm. 

Tessa pulls back just enough to let her forehead rest on his and they breathe as one when she looks into his eyes. “Come on, I’m starving.” Her hands are on his forearms now and she gives them a little squeeze before she leans forward and places her lips on his. Compared to others they’ve shared, this kiss is chaste, a simple slotting together of lips, the firm pressure a sign of the love motivating the action. It’s new for them, except not really, because he’s kissed Tess hundreds of times before. Except this time, he thinks, they’re both strong enough to carry the weight of it.

He feels his heart swell and follows her to the kitchen.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are at the end! Thank you all for all the kudos and comments! Also, I hear you guys, and I'll write some more smut for these guys since you're all so thirsty. Enjoy!
> 
> Lyrics in this chapter: Heart Beat Here by Dashboard Confessional and Crazy Love by Van Morrison

_ {We found our way past our youthful fears _

_ And fought our way through the pain and tears _

_ And we drove our stakes in the place most dear _

_ And let our hearts beat here} _

  
  


If she’s being honest with herself, and that’s something she does a lot more now, Tessa never thought she’d get here.

Ask her at any given moment prior to her 26th year and she would have told you that happiness with Scott was not something that was in the cards, not like this anyway.

She never expected to wake up next to him, in a home they built together, with the sun shining on his face and his glasses casting shadows as he read the morning paper. She never expected to spend so many nights being his sous chef, chopping up vegetables and pouring wine and smiling so wide that her cheeks hurt as they dance around their kitchen while everything cooks. She never expected to be this happy.

And it’s not just classically romantic moments that she’s surprised to have. No, it’s the weird stuff too, intimacies that she’s never shared with anyone but Scott. She never thought she’d be willingly popping zits that Scott can’t reach, never thought she’d feel loved when she leaves Scott to go the bathroom after complaining that her stomach hurt and he wishes her good luck.

This is a happiness she never thought she’d ever have and it makes each day with Scott feel like some sort of blessing.

His hand finds hers easily as they drive, just like it always does. She doesn’t know where they’re going but they don’t have anywhere to be and Tessa would follow Scott anywhere. His finger rubs at her wedding band absentmindedly, his voice low and even keeled as he sings along to the radio, and she looks at him instead of the passing scenery. She loves the wrinkles at the corner of his eyes, loves every sharp feature on his face. His hair is at that perfect length again and there’s a little grey peppered in, unnoticeable she thinks to anyone but them, and she loves the dimension it adds, loves that Scott who has always been the one between them who looked young, is finally showing his age.

She realizes where they’re going when they get to the border and she’s not surprised he kept this a secret from her. They haven’t been back to Michigan since they left it. Tessa half expects him to take them to Arctic Edge but then he’s turning down back roads and then she’s laughing, face flushing.

“Is this really where you’re taking me for a date,” she asks, her voice still full of glee. He smirks, waggles his eyebrows, gives her hand a tight squeeze before pulling over on a stretch of road they haven’t been down in years.

He turns off the truck with his left hand so he doesn’t have to let go of hers. Tessa likes the way the sun catches on his own ring and she brings their intertwined hands up to her lips so she can kiss his knuckles. “I would’ve taken my truck from Mom’s but I wanted to hold your hand on the drive.”

She’s already turned herself in her seat to face him by the time she thinks to unbuckle. “Such a sap,” she murmurs, smile etched on her lips.

“Yeah, yeah,” he says. He lets go of her hand but it doesn’t feel like a loss and that’s another thing that Tessa wasn’t sure was possible.

She loves touching Scott. She loves being wrapped up in him, loves having him so close that there’s no space between them. But she  _ loves _ that they can be countries apart and still feel so close. Any physical distance that’s ever between them never dims the closeness that she always feels now that they are partners in every sense of the word.

From the backseat he pulls out a little cooler and she laughs at the spread he packed. Chocolate milk and gatorade and water, cookies and carrot sticks and pita chips. 

If Tessa at fourteen could see them now, she thinks.

They talk for hours, as if they don’t talk to each other all the time. They talk about their families and about the garden Scott wants to add to their rental property. They talk about fundraising for the skate school and whether or not it’s time to leave Montreal and put new roots down closer to family. They talk about the five things they’d grab if there were a fire at their place and what their music selection would be if they competed this season.

The sun is setting by the time Scott goes to turn on the car again and, oh, he really just is something else isn’t he?

“What are you doing,” she asks and his hand pauses on the keys, looks at her with a furrowed brow. “We are not leaving here until we have sex.”

Scott’s eyes go wide and he lets out a little laugh as he shakes his head. “Tess, that’s not why I drove us out here.”

“I know,” she says and she looks into the backseat before nodding a little. “But I think it’s time we come full circle on this stretch, eh?”

He laughs again and his hand tangles in her hair at the base of her head and she can do nothing but sigh into his kiss.

 

\--

 

_ {She gives me some sweet lovin' brighten up my day _

_ Yes it makes me righteous, yes it makes me feel whole _

_ Yes it makes me mellow down in to my soul _

_ She give me love, love, love, love, crazy love} _

 

Scott knows he has loved Tessa in every possible way. 

He loved her with the naivety of a child, so pure and untouched by the reality of the world. He loved her with a burning passion that at times was so intense, he was scared he’d break under the weight of it. He loved her quietly and he loved her loudly, loved her when he shouldn’t have and loved her even when he didn’t want to. 

He loved her like family, where there were moments he wasn’t sure he  _ liked _ her but knew the love was still there despite anything. He loved her as a best friend, the lifeline he held on to during all the big life changing moments they went through. He loved her as a partner in work, the other half that contributed to the professional success they shared.

Scott has loved Tessa for most of his life but there’s nothing that compares to this. He loves her as  _ his _ , as the one he comes home to, the one he shares a bed with, the one who added his name to hers, who wore the ring he gave her. This love is the culmination of all the other ways he’s loved her and he wakes up each morning so utterly thankful that they’ve managed to get here.

Tessa moves around his mother’s kitchen easy, her head bobbing along to the song that’s playing outside even though the beat and words are muffled by the house. Her hips sway a little too in the cutoffs she wears and he notices for the first time since she came in with a bucket full of cherries that she’s got a handprint in blue paint on the back of her leg. 

He laughs from where he’s seasoning the meat at the table and he waits until she turns to look at him before asking, “who attacked you?” Her hands pause in washing the cherries but the rest of her body carries on with the beat of the song from outside. Her eyebrows furrow and he juts his chin toward her, his eyes dipping to her leg. “One of the kiddos got you.”

Tessa twists and turns to inspect herself, a soft grunt escaping her as she straightens and lets the cherries fall back into the bucket. “I’m guessing it was Benji,” she sighs. She uses one of her wet hands to wipe at the paint just above the back of her knee. “It’s about his height isn’t it?”

Scott nods, smile sitting lopsided on his face. “I’m just surprised you didn’t feel it.”

“I think I just assumed it was sweat,” she says with a little laugh. It’s a hot one today, not a single cloud in the sky, and while everyone is a little flushed from the heat, Tessa had come in completely red faced beneath her sun hat. Before she goes back out, he should probably help her reapply her sunscreen. 

He goes to her at the sink, moves the faucet so that he can wash his hands without tainting the cherries. As natural as her next breath, Tessa wraps a hand around his waist and leans in, her body fitting against his, with his, like they were made for eachother. He knows that they probably weren’t. He likes to think that the way they fit together is a result of all the work they put into eachother; they grew together because they wanted to, not because they were supposed to.

Her lips brush his jaw and there is a soft, happy hum that vibrates from her lips as he feels her relax into him. 

They stay like that for a long moment, bodies shifting once his hands are clean to fold even further into eachother. “How long do you think before someone comes asking about the meat,” he asks, catching sight of their families through the back door. He sees Benji running from Jordan, covered in the paint that was on Tessa, sees Danny laughing with Kate at the gaggle of Moir and Virtue nieces and nephews running after Jordan. His dad and Kevin are at the barbecue and he can’t see his mom, but he doesn’t doubt she’s by the little pool they set up for the smaller kiddos.

He wants to join the fun but he also wants to stay here with Tessa until someone complains. 

She runs her nose across his collarbone before pulling back to look at him and he really can’t help how much his smile grows, taking in all the freckles dusting her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. “We should probably get back out there,” Tessa concedes. “If they don’t come for the meat, the kids will come bother me for the cherries.”

He gives a short nod and drops a kiss to both her cheeks and then her lips before heading back to the table. Tessa washes another handful of cherries and tosses them into the bowl she grabbed so there’s enough to go around. There’s still plenty in the bucket but they both know this will appease everyone for the time being. 

Tessa grabs the door since his hands are full with the tray piled high with meat for everyone, but before he can start down the back steps, she touches his bicep, soft, and it stops him in his tracks. “Hey,” she says, quiet in the loudness of the family get together. “I love you.” He wishes he had a free hand, wants to wrap her back up in him. Tessa smiles and runs her lips over his again, a silent understanding.

They get back to the London house late that night, having watched the sun go down with their family at his parents’ and staying to clean up as much as his mom would allow. A handful of their nieces and nephews beg to spend the night (including Benji but at four he’s still way too young for them to survive a night with him) and they relent, two little Moirs and a little Virtue in the backseat, passed out by the time they pull into the driveway. Tessa glances in the back with a little laugh. “I knew they wouldn’t last the drive.”

They manage to get the kids in the house in one go, tuck them into the spare room right by the top of the stairs. “It’s going to be an early morning for us,” Scott whispers as he puts a side rail on, just in case. Riley’s the youngest at eight and it’s been years since he’s fallen from the bed, but the kiddos are getting too big to be put in the same bed.

“Don’t remind me.” Tessa pulls the blanket over them, brushes Charlotte’s hair back, smiling down at her when her eyes peak open.

“Auntie Tess, can we have french toast in the morning,” Charlotte asks, voice scratchy from sleep.

“You know that’s not a question for me,” Tessa laughs. 

Charlotte’s head rolls to the other side, careful not to jostle her cousin. “Uncle Scott?”

“Sure thing,” he says. “Go back to sleep.” A small nod and then she’s out again.

Back in their own room, Scott flops down on the bed and he’s nearly asleep himself by the time Tessa finishes her shower. She crawls onto the bed next to him, wet hair pulled back in a french braid and smelling like strawberries and vanilla. “Wake up, old man,” she murmurs in his ear. Her arm wraps over his shoulders, leg hooking over one of his.

“I’m going to remember this when you complain about waking up,” he says, words muffled by his pillow. He cracks open an eye and finds Tessa naked next to him and, damn it, yeah, that’ll do it. “You fight dirty.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Tessa says and he rolls, bringing her with him in the process so they’re pressed together, no space left between them as his arm tightens around her waist, hand flat between her shoulder blades and her leg hooking over his hips. She rocks them a little, her head burying into the crook of his neck, and she exhales happily. “Really, we don’t have to do anything. I just wanted you close.” Their breathing has synced up and he feels so full, so content, just having Tessa in his arms.

She leaves a trail of kisses up his neck, over his jaw, ends with three solid, lingering kisses to his lips. He traces her features with his eyes the moment she brings a hand up to run along his jaw, touch the wrinkles at the corner of his eyes and they realize at the same time that they’re doing the same thing. Tessa laughs and then so does Scott. “God, we’re something else, aren’t we?”

Tessa nods. “Totally disgusting,” she agrees before rolling away and off the bed. He watches as she moves around the room, pulling on underwear and some pajamas. She goes back to the bathroom then, comes back with some lotion and when she sits on the bed again, she gives him a small smile. “Get some sleep. I need you well rested so I can sleep in,” she jokes and he laughs hard. She looks so proud of herself, brilliant smile on her face, and yeah, perfection may not exist, but he thinks the two of them together come pretty damn close.

**Author's Note:**

> Come yell at me on tumblr @idontneedtobeforgiven


End file.
